Nowhere on earth tastes quite like San Sebastian. The seaside city, called Donostia in the Basque language, is obsessed with (and defines itself by) the sheer calibre of its food and drink - locals will eagerly remind you that the city's old town, the Parte Vieja, has more bars and restaurants per square metre than anywhere else in the world.

The bars serve a variety of exquisite tapas-like morsels that the Basques call pintxos - San Sebastian's society revolves around these tiny dishes of fish, meat, omelette, beans, or whatever else happens to be in season in the fertile undulating countryside of northern Iberia. In the early evening, before settling down for dinner, locals and visitors flit from bar to bar, washing down their pintxos with txakoli, a tart slightly fizzy white wine, or sidra (cider) poured from head-height into a glass held next to the hip.

San Sebastian sits comfortably on a conch-shaped bay, protected by a large island where the edge of the conch meets the Atlantic. The long beaches - once frequented by holidaying European monarchs - mean this never feels like a big city: there is always an escape onto the vast sweeping stretches of sand. The Romans called their port here Easo, a name that seems deeply appropriate for the standard of living - pleasant, fresh and without too much hassle. At either side of the bay lovers and families stroll on the twin mountains of Igueldo and Urgull, and the bumpy green hills of Guipuzkoa province stretch back behind the city.

Although mainly known by its Spanish name, San Sebastian is staunchly Basque - the spiky names of the streets, the people and the foodstuffs, with all their 'k's, 'x's and 'z's, provide a stark reminder that an unfamiliar language and identity dominates here. As one of the city's graffiti artists has put it, on a building close to the beach: "Tourist, remember: You are not in Spain. You are not in France. You are in Basque country." Wherever you think you are, 'On egin!': enjoy your meal.